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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841277">With your hand in mine, drop your walls down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrysmolthug/pseuds/angrysmolthug'>angrysmolthug</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How Mickey and Ian find love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Canon Backstories, Deep Conversations, Dry Humping, First Date, First Kiss, Future Fic, Iggy is a good brother, Lip is kind of a dick, M/M, Making Out, Mickey and Ian being teased by their siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:13:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrysmolthug/pseuds/angrysmolthug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey might be kind of a dick sometimes, but he’s not a dick about this kind of stuff. He surprises himself by reaching out, grabbing one of Ian’s hands as it’s reaching for the breadbasket again.</p><p>“Hey, it’s okay, man,” he says, looking Ian in the eye. “You don’t have to talk about it, we’ve all got skeletons, you know?</p><p>He can see how Ian's shoulders sag a little in relief, but the anxious look on his face is replaced by something akin to determination. “Yeah, no, I want to tell you and I should, but… Later?”</p><p>Mickey nods and he smiles at Ian, giving his hand a little squeeze before letting go, as he sees the waitress approach again.</p><p> </p><p>OR: After Yevgeny played accidental matchmaker by falling of his skateboard, Ian and Mickey are going on their first date. The two flirt over burgers and fries, but there might also be some heavy conversation involved...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Canon past relationships - Relationship, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How Mickey and Ian find love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>196</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First chapter is Ian's POV, second is Mickey's POV. The second is their date. I'm just posting as I write, so chapter 2 will probably appear tomorrow. I am procrastinating my deadlines to write this, to be honest. I've got about four other one-shot ideas lined up for this series already... </p><p>I recommend reading the first part of the series 'Skater Boy Yev (except not really)' first.</p><p>Ian is bipolar in this series, but the shit he did to Mickey in the series hurt me, so don't worry, it won't really be something that causes serious problems between them in this part or any of the coming parts. It's just something he has to deal with and something that is the reason of certain shit he's done in the past. Not saying it won't cause any issues, but none that drive them apart, if you get what I'm saying.</p><p> <br/>I really can't make sense of the ages Shameless uses, so I'm just pulling them out of my ass. </p><p>Once again, not beta'd so all mistakes are mine and English is not my first language </p><p>Title taken from Take Care (2020) by John Louis</p><p>Hope you enjoy reading this!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ian waits for a text from Mickey, while Lip gives his opinion on the matter</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ian tells him about Mickey, the first thing Lip says is: “Shit Ian, a Milkovich? You sure that is a good idea?”</p><p> They’re sitting on the front step of Lips house, chain-smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol-free beers because that’s how lame they are now. It’s early June, late in the day and the air is cooling down, so Ian is almost starting to feel cold in his tank top.</p><p>“He seems normal, you know. Has a kid, actually.”</p><p>Lip sneers. “Milkoviches don’t do fucking normal, man. I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea.”</p><p>Ian chooses not to respond, just drinks his beer and smokes his cigarette. Mickey hasn’t even texted him yet, so maybe there is nothing to worry about, anyway. He hopes Mickey will text, he really fucking hopes so because he wants to feel that way again that he did when Mickey looked at him. Shit, he had taken a big risk asking Mickey out. He could have been attacked by Mickey. Stupid to assume a Milkovich could be anything but straight, Lip would probably have said then. But Mickey didn’t hit him, no, he had blushed and smiled bashfully and Ian had felt butterflies. </p><p>If he is totally, completely honest, he hasn’t really felt this way since he started his meds. He didn’t feel like this with Caleb, not really, and he may have felt something close with Trevor, but barely. Those were actual relationships that didn’t even come close to the way he felt electrified when he touched Mickey’s hand. It scares him a little, makes him wonder if maybe he is close to being manic. If maybe his meds are off and he is set to go off the rails any moment. He isn’t, he knows that because after more than ten years of dealing with this illness, he knows how it feels. Knows how it feels when the meds are starting to lose their effectiveness or when a particularly intense bout of mania or depression is set on before it is balanced out by the medication. </p><p>So here he is, sitting next to his brother, staring at his phone and waiting for Mickey to text. It’s been a day, Yev was probably released later in the day yesterday, so he should be home. And it’s a Sunday, so it can’t be that Mickey is at work. Except maybe he is because Ian has no clue what kind of job Mickey has.</p><p>His phone buzzes and he almost drops the thing in his haste to unlock it and check the notification.</p><p>
  <i><b>Unknown:</b> hey</i>
</p><p>It’s an unknown number and his breath catches in his throat.</p><p>
  <i><b>Unknown:</b> it’s mickey btw</i>
</p><p>He saves the number, takes more than a minute to decide what to put as a name before settling with just ‘Mickey’, no last name. </p><p>
  <i><b>Ian:</b> Hey, what’s up?😄</i>
</p><p> <i><b>Mickey:</b> just hanging with yev. when u wanna get that drink?</i></p><p>Ian hadn’t expected Mickey to be so straight-forward, but then again, Mickey didn’t seem like the kind of person to beat around the bush. Ian hesitates for a bit. Does tomorrow seem too eager? Admittedly, Ian is very eager, so tomorrow doesn’t actually even feel soon enough.</p><p>Lip leans against his shoulder, trying to sneak a look at his phone. “That Milkovich?” </p><p> Ian hums in response. Ah, fuck it, Mickey asked and if he thinks tomorrow is too soon, he can decline. </p><p>
  <i><b>Ian:</b> Tomorrow?</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>Mickey:</b> drinking on a monday?</i>
</p><p>It’s blunt, just like Ian expected. Mickey types like talks, challenging, and he doesn’t use capital letters or emojis. He didn’t really expect Mickey to mind drinking on a Monday. He’s pretty sure people from their old neighborhood never really cared what day it was when they drank alcohol. </p><p>
  <i><b>Ian:</b> Maybe not drinks, then. You want to get something to eat?</i>
</p><p>He nervously turns his phone over and over in his hands, waiting for Mickey’s response. </p><p>“Ha, are you going to wine and dine him?" Lip mocks when he reads the text over Ian’s shoulder. </p><p>“I don’t know,” he sighs. “Maybe take him to that diner we used to go to sometimes?” </p><p>“The one where Carl is banned from?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Lip nods. “Yeah, that’s casual enough, I think, and they’ve got great food. Also far enough from here you don’t risk getting fag bashed.”</p><p>Ian scrunches his nose. “Like they don’t fag bash outside the South Side. Also, don’t think we’ll be acting all lovey-dovey, it’s a first date, dickhead.”</p><p>“You fucking love all that sappy shit, don’t bullshit me.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, but Mickey…”</p><p>He doesn’t finish the sentence, but they both know what he was going to say. Mickey is a Milkovich. A gay one, maybe, but still a Milkovich. Shit, Ian can’t imagine the amount of internalized homophobia Mickey must have dealt with growing up with a father like Terry. Ian actually remembers Terry’s rampages, when he went on fag-bashing tours with his sons and nephews. Ian’s pretty sure Mickey participated. It hurts to think that maybe, if Ian had been less careful as a teen, they would have met before, under much different, much more painful circumstances.</p><p>
  <i><b>Mickey:</b> sure, you pick a place</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>Ian:</b> Okay! Pick you up at seven? ☺️</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>Mickey:</b> seven thirty okay? need 2 wait for babysitter</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>Ian:</b> Yeah, of course.</i>
</p><p>He grins at his phone giddily. He’s got a fucking date tomorrow. A date with Mickey Milkovich. Mickey with his bright blue eyes and jet-black hair and fucking knuckle tattoos that shouldn’t turn Ian on but really, really do. </p><p>“Shit man,” Lip says as he stubs out his cigarette. “You’re smitten already, dude, that can’t be good.”</p><p>Ian shoves him, laughing, and the two wrestle for a bit until Ian manages to get Lip into a headlock. He holds him until his brother starts to beg for mercy, </p><p>***</p><p>Ian is nervous. Very, very nervous. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t been this nervous since his first day back as an EMT. He’s changed shirts five times already, trying to find one that looks good, and all of his clothes are strewn across his bed.</p><p>“You look fine, Ian, just go for the navy one,” Debbie says from her spot in the corner of his room, settled in the leather chair that stands there. She’s eating fucking popcorn as if his misery is some kind of show.</p><p>“Why are you here again?”</p><p>His sister shrugs. “Franny’s at a sleepover and I needed entertainment. I am getting old, Ian, I am twenty-five and I have a kid, I miss having fun.”</p><p>“So you decided to bug your older brother? Yeah, Debs, that must be loads of fun,” Ian sighs. He does listen to her, tugging the navy T-shirt from the pile. It fits him well, just on the right side of loose, showing off his muscles but making him look at least a little respectable. </p><p>“Wait,” he says when he fully realizes what Debbie said. “I’m twenty-seven! You think twenty-five is old, what do you think I am?!”</p><p>“Ancient,” Debbie grins at him through a mouthful of popcorn.</p><p>He rolls his eyes, checking his phone to see if Mickey has responded to his text asking for the address. He has, and Ian notices it is close to the skatepark Yevgeny had his accident at. About a ten minute drive from his apartment, it seems, which means he should leave in the next five minutes. He grabs his keys from the dresser, checks his pockets for his wallet and then moves to the living room to get his jacket from where he left it on the couch. </p><p>“I want you out of here by the time I get back, Debs,” he tells his sister sternly.</p><p>Debbie grins: “you planning on bringing your boy back here? Might want to get those clothes out of sight first, then.”</p><p>He doesn’t, actually. Plan on bringing Mickey back here, that is, not after a first date. But acting like he does might get Debbie out of the house on time. </p><p>“Why don’t you clean it up,” he grins. “You were bored, right?”</p><p>He ignores Debbie’s squawking, just making his way out the door and down to the parking lot to get his car.</p><p>Fuck, this is real. He’s going on a date, a real fucking date for the first time in ages, with Mickey Milkovich.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked this! Like I said, chapter 2 will probably be up soon, within a day, I think. </p><p>Feel free to check out my Tumblr angry-smol-thug (I've come to the realization grammatically the first two words should be switched. oops. oh well, I like it.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ian and Mickey go on their date, but with pasts like theirs, the heavy stuff can only be avoided for so long.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wasn't planning on making this chapter this long compared to the last, but I just couldn't help myself.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hope you enjoy Ian and Mickey's date!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey is standing in front of the mirror, nervously trying to get his hair just right. He’s got his date with Ian tonight. A real, actual date, because they’re no longer going for drinks but for fucking dinner. He regrets letting Ian pick the place and is considering asking where they are going because he doesn’t want to be underdressed. He’s just wearing black skinny jeans – he hates how tight and fucking gay they look, but Mandy always says they make his ass look great – and a long-sleeved t-shirt, because it’s a surprisingly cold day for June. They’re both South Side, though, and Ian knows that, so he’s pretty sure the other man will take him somewhere casual. </p><p>“You look fine, dad,” Yev tells him when Mickey tries to smooth out the wrinkles in his t-shirt for the millionth time. Yev’s starfished out on Mickey’s bed, one leg in a cast. </p><p>“Thanks, bud.” </p><p>He sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. It’s not going to get any better than this, anyway. </p><p>“Mom says Ian might be your Nika.”</p><p>Mickey turns around so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. Nika is Svetlana’s wife, she came here from Russia around the same time as Svet. He’s not a big fan of her, but he tolerates her because she’s Yev’s stepmom. </p><p>“Your mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about, she’s never even met him.”</p><p>“Your father looks at text from ambulance boy like I look at wife,” Yev imitates his mother. </p><p>And shit, Mickey hadn’t realized Svetlana was even paying any attention to him when he was texting Ian yesterday. They had all had dinner together, as they do sometimes, and Ian had texted when Svet and Nika were doing dishes in the kitchen. Mickey didn’t think he had been that obvious.</p><p>“It’s still new, okay, Yev?” he tells his son. “First we’ll have to see how tonight goes.”</p><p>Yev nods, but he looks a little disappointed. </p><p> </p><p>The doorbell rings and Mickey glances at the clock in a panic, only to realize that he’s got a least ten minutes left and that it’s probably Iggy at the door.<br/>
He makes his way down the stairs and when he opens the door, it is indeed his brother on the other side. </p><p>“Hey man, come one in, thanks for being okay watching Yev tonight,” Mickey says. “Mandy has work and Svet and Nika left this morning for some trip.”</p><p>“No problem, bro,” Iggy grins as he plops down on the couch. “Needed to get out of the house anyway, Jen’s acting crazy. Fucking hormones, man.”</p><p>Mickey snorts. “Pussy.”</p><p>“She’s been threatening to cut off my dick, Mickey! You know that woman, she would fucking do it!”</p><p>“Yeah, well, you dick is what got her pregnant in the first place, so…”</p><p>It earns him a throw pillow to the head and he immediately turns to the first reflective surface he can find, checking his hair. “Watch it, douchebag!”</p><p>Iggy is chuckling and he flips Mickey off. They both look up when they hear stumbling coming from the stairs. Yev is slowly making his way down, butt on the stairs and the leg with the cast stretched forward. He’s got his crutches in one hand. </p><p>“Hey, little man!” Iggy greets his nephew and Mickey watches as he smiles that smile he’s got reserved only for kids. Iggy fucking loves kids, always has, Mickey thinks. He is ecstatic that his wife is pregnant – because Iggy is married now, has been for two years and he’s got a house and a normal, steady job like Mickey – even if the pregnancy itself has turned Jen into a ‘raging bitch’, as Iggy likes to say. Mickey thinks Jen is always kind of a bitch, but it’s not like he’s all that nice either and she loves Iggy, so that’s good enough for him. He just wants his brother to be happy.</p><p>“Uncle Iggy, I’m not little, I am twelve,” Yev sniffs indignantly. He has reached the bottom step and is trying to get up. Mickey makes his way over to help his son to his feet. </p><p>“Hate to break it to ya, kid, but with your dad’s genes you’ll always be little,” Iggy chuckles. </p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Iggs.”</p><p>It’s true though, Yev is short for his age, though according to the doctor not concerningly short, considering Mickey’s height. It’s not like Mickey is small or anything. He might be a little on the short side of average with his 5’7”, but that’s it. Yev’s got his build, though, strong but compact, with short, slightly stubby legs. Some older kids used to tease Yev about his height and that was the first time Mickey got called into school because his son decided to talk with his fists. It worked; the kids backed off and Yev decided it was his calling to stand up to any bullies he would notice. </p><p>“Nothing wrong with being a little short, bud,” he tells his son. “Means if anyone underestimates you, you can show them how fucking wrong they are.”</p><p>Yev grins and stumbles his way over to the couch to the couch to sit down next to Iggy, who immediately pulls him against his side. Mickey takes in the sight, smiling fondly. </p><p>The doorbell rings again and shit, this time it’s probably Ian. He feels like he’s stuck to the ground. </p><p>“You gonna make your man wait?” Iggy teases and Mickey inhales deeply before finally moving towards the hall.</p><p>When he opens the door, his breath is taken away and it seems like Ian manages to do that every fucking time. He’s wearing a shirt that shows off all his fucking muscles and a fucking leather jacket. Mickey wants to fucking lick him all over. </p><p>“Hey,” Ian says and he’s smiling so, so wide.</p><p>Mickey kind of forgets he needs to respond for a second, but eventually, he gets his voice back: “hey”</p><p>Yev has gotten up from the couch again, coming to the door on his crutches, Iggy in tow.</p><p>“Ian!”</p><p>“Hey kid,” Ian says. “How are you doing?”</p><p>“They gave me a cast,” Yev says and he’s smiling, sticking out his leg so Ian can look at it.</p><p>“Cool! And your head?”</p><p>Yev shrugs. “Some headaches, but not that bad?”</p><p>“That’s great, buddy!” Ian is smiling his thousand-megawatt smile again and Yev is beaming right back. </p><p>“Why don’t you go make some popcorn, bud?” Iggy tells Yev, probably realizing that otherwise, they’ll stay at this weird impasse, with all of them on the porch. </p><p>“Okay, bye Ian!” Yev doesn’t seem all too torn up about being sent away. </p><p>“This is my brother, Iggy,” Mickey tells Ian, not taking his eyes of the redhead. “Iggy, this is Ian.”</p><p>Iggy grins at Ian. “Sup, dude.”</p><p>Mickey turns towards his brother. “You know the rules, Iggs. Have him in bed by nine-thirty and no beer before that. And not too much beer, you’ve got to be sober if anything happens.</p><p>Iggy nods, waving the two of them away. “This ain’t my first rodeo, Mick, now go!”</p><p>Mickey flips him off as he walks towards the car with Ian, the two of them laughing. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>It’s a nice diner, nothing too fancy. It’s not that busy, but that is probably because it’s a Monday evening. Mickey trusts the redhead to have good taste.</p><p>They’ve been talking non-stop since they got in the car, just about random shit like their jobs and their families. Mickey has been steering around all of the bad stuff, but he’s noticed that Ian is doing the same, often carefully choosing his words as if to make sure he doesn’t give anything away.</p><p>It’s been a while since Mickey talked this much to anyone who isn’t family or work-related. Hell, even then he doesn’t talk all that much, only to Yev. But Ian makes him want to talk, makes him want to tell everything there is to tell and it scares the shit out of him. </p><p>They sit down in a booth, immediately reaching for the menus but not letting it break up their conversation. Because of how quiet the place is, a waitress is with them after only a minute. </p><p> </p><p>“You guys want anything to drink?”</p><p>Mickey nods. “Beer, please.”</p><p>The girl starts listing of all kinds of beer and Mickey sighs. Pretentious bitches. </p><p>“Just a beer,” he interrupts her. “Okay?”</p><p>She doesn’t seem too offended about being cut off and she nods, after which she turns to Ian.</p><p>“Just a coke for me, please,” the redhead tells her. </p><p>She scribbles it down, tells them she will be right back and leaves them to their conversation. </p><p>“Just coke?” Mickey asks. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to go to drinks at first?”</p><p>Ian smiles sheepishly. “I don’t drink much.”</p><p>“Frank’s issues put you off?” </p><p>Mickey remembers Frank Gallagher and the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed. On the South Side kids often start drinking as soon as they hit double digits, but he can imagine having Frank as a father doesn’t make you love alcohol all that much. Then again, a beer or two shouldn’t hurt, right?</p><p>“No, eh- no. I can’t drink a lot because of medication,” Ian says and oh… Oh. </p><p>Ian is awkwardly tearing at the bread the waitress had put on the table, putting tiny pieces in his mouth and chewing slightly too aggressively. He doesn’t say anything else, but Mickey can see him contemplating.</p><p>Mickey might be kind of a dick sometimes, but he’s not a dick about this kind of stuff. He surprises himself by reaching out, grabbing one of Ian’s hands as it’s reaching for the breadbasket again. </p><p>“Hey, it’s okay, man,” he says, looking Ian in the eye. “You don’t have to talk about it, we’ve all got skeletons, you know?</p><p>He can see how Ian's shoulders sag a little in relief, but the anxious look on his face is replaced by something akin to determination. “Yeah, no, I want to tell you and I should, but… Later?”</p><p>Mickey nods and he smiles at Ian, giving his hand a little squeeze before letting go, as he sees the waitress approach again.<br/>
Mickey orders a burger with loads of cheese and bacon on it, while Ian goes for some kind of chicken burger that has veggies as well. Mickey pulls a face as he orders it and teases him as soon as the waitress is gone again. </p><p>Time passes quickly as they talk and eat and laugh and at some point, Mickey almost catches himself fucking giggling at something Ian says.</p><p>Ian is telling him about his friendship with Mandy back in the day and Mickey loves hearing stories about his sister from when they were teens because when it comes down to it he wasn’t around enough himself. He still regrets it, no matter how many times Mandy tells him it’s fine. </p><p>“I actually fake-dated Mandy for a while,” Ian chuckles. “To get the guys to back off of her a little and to make sure everyone thought I was straight.”</p><p>“Didn’t know that,” Mickey muses. </p><p>“We were fourteen, almost fifteen, I think?” </p><p>That explains a lot because then Mickey was probably sixteen and at sixteen… </p><p>“Think I was in juvie during that.”</p><p>He regrets it as soon as he’s said it because they haven’t really touched the darker parts of their pasts yet, even if in Mickey’s life juvie is merely a light to medium grey. Ian doesn’t really react, though. He doesn’t seem surprised or put off and Mickey realizes that he probably knew because Mandy had told him at the time. He wonders what else Ian knows about Mickey because of Mandy. He doesn’t know how long the two stayed friends, just knows that they lost contact at some point. </p><p>An awkward silence falls and Mickey doesn’t know what to say to make it all better again. He’s picking at his fries, avoiding Ian’s gaze, until he decides fuck it, Milkoviches are nothing if not honest unless it’s the police asking about the illegal shit they’ve been up to. </p><p>“Just to circle back to the skeletons, I’ve been to prison,” he says. He doesn’t look up to see what Ian’s reaction is to the bomb he just dropped. </p><p>“Ditto.”</p><p>His head shoots up. “What?”</p><p>“I’ve done time, just a year,” Ian says. “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of.”</p><p>He’s quiet for a moment, clearly trying to work up the nerve to say something and Mickey thinks that maybe they’ve reached ‘later’.</p><p>“It was arson, I wasn’t in the right headspace when I did it,” Ian tells him. He speaks quietly as if talking too loud will make it more real. “Mickey, I’m bipolar.”</p><p>Well shit. </p><p>“That’s depression, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, manic depressive, extremely high highs and extremely low lows,” Ian explains. “I’m fine now, I’m medicated, I’ve got a routine, I’m handling it fine.”</p><p>Mickey doesn’t respond, he just nods. He’s looking down at his fries again. Ian doesn’t say anything else and he must be giving Mickey time to process.</p><p>“So, any chance of you going off the rails all of a sudden?”</p><p>“The meds can stop working, but those can be adjusted. It can be challenging for a bit, though.” </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Look,” Ians says and he looks so, so sad and Mickey just wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he doesn’t care. “I get it if you want to call it quits now, you didn’t sign up for that.”</p><p>“Shit, Gallagher, no,” Mickey responds, slightly more aggressive than he meant to. “You can’t fucking help it, can you? I’ve got my own demons, too, and we’ll deal with them somewhere along the line, okay?</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yeah man, really. I mean, Yev will always be my priority, but I’m not just going to give up on this just because of some fucking chemical imbalance that you didn’t fucking ask for.”</p><p>Ian is smiling again and it makes Mickey really, really happy. Happy that he is the one that made Ian smile. </p><p>They finish their fries and drinks and they order some dessert to share and it’s the sappiest, gayest shit Mickey’s done in his whole fucking life, probably. But he doesn’t mind, because they’re back to the fun conversation, to jokes and laughter, prison and disorders not forgotten put pushed to the background. They stay until the sun has gone down and they realize how long they’ve been there. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>They’re just walking towards Ian’s car, shoulders bumping together occasionally. When Mickey looks up, Ian is already staring at him. There is a soft smile on his face and Mickey is pretty sure he fucking blushes. Anyone would if Ian Gallagher was looking at them like that.  </p><p>They reach Ian’s car and he’s fishing around in his pockets to find his keys and Mickey just can’t wait anymore. He’s been wondering how those lips feel for over two days now, he needs to know.</p><p>He kind of launches himself at Ian, but the redhead barely even stumbles. Mickey fits on hand around the back of Ian’s neck, the other on his hip. He’s on his tip-toes, but he doesn’t care, only cares about Ian’s lips on his. Fuck, he’d never have thought kissing was this good. </p><p>First, Ian puts both of his giant hands on Mickey’s face, but then he takes one off and he reaches down to grab Mickey’s ass and Mickey feels like he’s in heaven. </p><p>Ian’s car is parked right across an alley and Mickey lets himself be pushed back by the redhead until they’re just inside the alley. His head bumps into the brick wall, but he doesn’t care. All he can focus on is Ian’s tongue in his mouth and his hands roaming over Mickey’s body. </p><p>Everything feels electrified and he’s hard in his pants, close to the edge already because it’s been two fucking years since he’s felt another man’s touch.</p><p>Ian is grinding against him, pushing him against the walls as their dicks rub against each other through their clothes. Mickey’s no longer really kissing back, as far gone as he is. He’s just gasping into Ian’s mouth as the other man’s tongue explores his own mouth.</p><p>The redhead shoves one of his thighs between Mickey’s and he pretty much humps Ian’s thigh until he comes with a loud gasp, the sound swallowed by Ian’s mouth. It only takes Ian a few more seconds or rubbing against Mickey before his body stills and he comes with a stifled groan. </p><p>Ian slumps against Mickey, bent down a few inches as he rests his forehead in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey clings to him, one hand playing with Ian’s hair. Ian says something, but Mickey can’t quite make it out, just feels how Ian’s lips move against his neck. </p><p>“What’s that, mumbles?”</p><p>“That was kind of embarrassingly fast,” Ian says as he straightens. His cheeks are red, but Mickey is not sure if it’s because of the exertion of if he’s blushing. </p><p>He grins. “Yeah, it’s been a while for me.”</p><p>“Same.”</p><p>They’re quiet for a bit, just gazing into each other's eyes. Ian reaches out, softly putting a hand on Mickey’s cheek and he can’t help himself, so he puts his hands on the redhead's waist. </p><p>“I could call Iggy,” he says. “Ask him to stay with Yev for the night. We could…”</p><p>He doesn’t finish his sentence, just looks at the other man expectantly. Ian’s face falls a little.</p><p>“I don’t think…” he starts. He pulls back then and Mickey wants to pull him back in, wants to keep touching him. “Fuck, I like you, Mick, I really like you, but I don’t think we should sleep together, not yet. Shit, we probably shouldn’t have done this.” </p><p>He’s avoiding Mickey’s eyes, looking down. He’s clearly embarrassed. Mickey tries not to feel hurt because there is no reason to. What they just did was a spur of the moment thing, they weren’t thinking clearly. Even if it was amazing, Mickey also promised himself years ago that he was done with quick fucks. And even if this isn’t that, maybe they should take it slow. He’s got a kid, for fucks sake, and Ian’s got all his shit and Mickey knows, instinctively, that they’ve both got past that rival each other in how shitty they were. </p><p>Mickey reaches out, touches Ian’s cheek in the same way the redhead did to him just a minute before. </p><p>“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says, tilting Ian’s face so he can look at him. “We can take it slow from now on, okay? That’s fine, that’s okay.”</p><p>Ian smiles at him. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah man, I like you too, okay, a lot, and I want to see where this goes.”</p><p>“Okay,” Ian whispers and he’s positively beaming now.</p><p>“Now we should probably get home before we get stuck to our pants.”</p><p>Ian laughs, that unrestrained laugh that makes Mickey’s insides flutter and he nods. </p><p>“Yeah, come on,” he says as he pulls Mickey along to the car. </p><p>The drive to Mickey’s place is spent in comfortable silence. They’re both smiling, stealing glances at each other and at some point, Ian grabs Mickey’s and rests them on Mickey’s thigh. The ten minutes go by way too fast. </p><p>Ian walks him to the front door, like a true gentleman. </p><p>“Text me?” he asks as Mickey walks up the steps to his front door. Ian stops in front of the first step and for the first time, Mickey gets to look down at him instead of the other way around. </p><p>Mickey grins. “Of course, Firecrotch.”</p><p>Ian pulls a face at the nickname and Mickey leans down to kiss him. It’s meant to be a quick peck, but Ian grabs him to steady him and he’s pretty sure they kiss for a full minute before Ian pulls back. </p><p>“See ya,” Ian grins and he walks backwards until he’s out of the front yard. Mickey watches as he gets in his car and drives away.</p><p>He leans against the front door. Fuck. He wants to see Ian again. As soon as possible, really.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading, hope you liked it! </p><p>I've got four ideas lined up for other parts, but those are later in their relationship. If there's anything you would like to read about these two, let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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